


a love hate relationship

by GodOfGlitter



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 3+1, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Post Series, Russia, Set in St Petersburg, yuuri says he hates russia but he really doesnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 17:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18393128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfGlitter/pseuds/GodOfGlitter
Summary: “I hate Russia.” He claims petulantly, and even though Victor knows that Yuuri isn’t serious, that it’s just the fear speaking, he can’t help but feel the pang of insecurity in his chest- what if Yuuri isn’t happy here? With him?*Alternatively titled 'Three times Yuuri hates Russia and the one time he doesn’t'





	a love hate relationship

1.

“I’m scared.”

Victor looks up from his book, taking in bright brown eyes that shine silver under the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Yuuri is clad in his softest Mizuno Sports shirt today, with Victor’s Team Russia jacket thrown over like a blanket meant to ward away bad things. Outside, the wind blows hard, making the windows rattle noisily. Somewhere in the apartment, a curtain billows and knocks something over, because a loud crash penetrates the silence that follows Yuuri’s proclamation.

The sound of something falling makes Yuuri flinch, and his head bows as his arms move to wrap themselves tighter around his body. “I’m scared,” he repeats, voice breaking a little, and it’s all Victor can do to not swoon right here because _what did he do to deserve this angel._

“Come here.” He says, putting his book aside and opening his arms wide for Yuuri. Immediately, he crawls into his arms, and Victor can feel the shivers that wrack Yuuri’s body. It makes his heart swell up and break a little at the same time. “Is that better?” he asks, nuzzling Yuuri’s neck and peppering him with soft kisses. Yuuri’s grateful nod is interrupted by the loud sound of thunder in the sky, and Yuuri _whimpers_ before burrowing even deeper into Victor’s arms- if that’s even possible.

“I hate Russia.” He claims petulantly, and even though Victor knows that Yuuri isn’t serious, that it’s just the fear speaking, he can’t help but feel the pang of insecurity in his chest- what if Yuuri isn’t happy here? With him?

Victor’s downward spiral into panic is checked by Yuuri’s quietly ferocious (read: adorably adorable) glare that seems to scream _why aren’t you holding me tighter?_

Victor breathes out a chuckle, completely smitten by the boy in his arms, before complying and hugging Yuuri close to him once more. “It’ll be over soon, _zveda,”_ he says, running his hands through Yuuri’s hair in a way he knows relaxes him. Bit by bit, the tension leaves Yuuri’s body, until he stops flinching at every small sound and starts nodding off on Victor’s chest.

(The next morning, Yuuri wakes up calm and contended, with all traces of yesterday’s fear erased. The kiss of gratitude he gives Victor is enough to wipe off all insecurities.)

(For now.)

2.

“Vitya, it is snowing and there is absolutely no way I’m getting out of the blanket in this weather.” Is what Yuuri says to him, first thing in the morning. His eyes flash with steel hard determination, and the casual pout of his lips is almost enough for Victor to concede and agree to spend one whole working day in bed. Yuuri tends to bring the best _and_ the worst out of him- it really can’t be helped.

“Come on, _solnyshko,_ you know we can’t skip practice. Worlds are only a month away!” says Victor, who is showered and dressed in fresh practice clothes and is almost jumping with bottled up energy. Yuuri wonders why _his_ body isn’t like Victor’s- so used to being put through hell every day that it practically demands it by now. He pokes one eye out of the comforter to glare at him, and he _swears_ Victor’s smile is brighter than the stupid sun. It both endears and annoys him.

Yuuri knows he’s being childish, just as he knows Victor knows that he’ll get up anyway. But something about the morning, the country, brings out this petulant side in him, and he thinks that he deserves to be spoiled a little every once in a while.

“I hate you. I hate this fucking country.” Is what Yuuri says- the last dying swipe of a lioness defeated.

“Well, now that we’ve settled that, what do you want for breakfast?” says Victor brightly, before pulling the blanket off of Yuuri with a harsh tug. “Come on, come on, we don’t have all day. I was thinking cereal, and maybe we can make a small exception to the diet plan and have Froot Loops today. Or would you rather go all out and make pancakes?” he rants, making his way to the kitchen and pointedly ignoring the steady stream of curses Yuuri directs at him. Morning Yuuri is absolutely adorable.

“ _Or,_ we could have _blini._ You know, since you woke up and will run in the snow and everything.” Says Victor, pausing dramatically in the middle of the apartment.

It takes only _one second_ for the curses to stop and the rustling of clothes to begin, and the chuckle Victor lets out is enough to warm him in the snow that falls outside. 

3.

“Makkachin khori-khoroshaya sob-soba- argh!” says Yuuri, running his hands through his hair in frustration- for the hundredth time this evening. When he’d asked Victor to teach him Russian in their free time, he’d thought that it would be romantic. And fun. And easy. Did he mention easy?

Instead, here he is, ready to gouge his eyes out of frustration because there are _so many rules_ and _why the fuck are all these words so difficult to pronounce?_

“No, _iyubov moya,_ it’s Makkachin _Khoroshaya Sobaka._ See? Simple.” Says Victor, and Yuuri loves him but if he hears that condescending _one more time_ he will rip his head off. He swears it.

“Simple my ass. This whole fucking country should go fuck a cactus and scream out loud in this fucking complicated language.” Yuuri says scathingly- in Japanese, because his brain is too tired for translation and also because he doesn’t really mean it and he doesn’t want Victor to be hurt.

“What?” says Victor, because his Japanese isn’t _that_ good, obviously.

Yuuri looks at him, with his wide blue eyes and coral lips that constantly beg to be kissed. He sighs, letting some of his frustration leak out with his breath, and leans against Victor and closes his eyes. Silently, Victor gathers Yuuri up into his arms, and the quiet act of love brings tears to his emotionally frayed mind.

“Nothing,” he says, pressing an apologetic kiss into Victor’s pulse point. “Let’s take a small break, yeah? Then you can teach me how to say ‘I want to kiss you.’ Wouldn’t want to miss out on local opportunities, would I?”

“My Yuuri, so cruel!” whines Victor, draping himself like a large blanket over Yuuri. “If I’d known you would be like this, I never would’ve agreed to teach you Russian in the first place-“ he rants, filling the air with his soothing voice so that Yuuri’s frustration leaks away.

And in the warmth of Victor’s voice and the comfort of his arms, Yuuri falls in love all over again.

+1.

“I love Russia.” Says Yuuri.

It’s a bright, clear day, and they’re at the beach with Makkachin, celebrating a rare day-off where neither of them has any prior engagements. A lazy morning has led to a spur of the moment picnic, and now that the food is over, they’re relaxing and letting the waves lap at their feet. Overhead, seagulls let out cries that reach their ears like sweet music, and for a second, Victor is hit with a strong pang of homesickness for Hasetsu.

But then, Yuuri turns in his arms to face him, and Victor’s thoughts become nothing but Yuuri and his eyes and his lips. There is a breath of anticipation, and then Yuuri leans in, slotting their lips together in a chaste and sweet kiss that tastes of _home_. _I’m happy,_ is what that kiss says, and Victor’s heart swells and takes up any available space in his chest until he’s practically choking with love.

It’s a long while of slow, languorous kissing before Yuuri pulls away, chuckling at the way Victor chases after his lips like they’re a drug he can’t get enough of. They are.

“I love Russia.” He repeats, lips pink and kiss-swollen, looking very much like the graceful raven in a sea of white and red roses he’d resembled when he’d first set foot in the aforementioned country.

 “I love you,” says Victor in reply, moving forward again to capture the laughter hanging tantalisingly on Yuuri’s lips.

“I love you, too,” murmurs Yuuri, and in the shared heat of their mouths, Victor finds that his insecurities have melted into nothingness.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope you liked it! If you did, please leave a Kudos and a comment for good luck. lol.
> 
> ALSO like I hope you know that I don't hate Russia (lol and neither does yuuri). Also I don't speak Russian, obviously, so excuse my google translated lines? 
> 
> -love,  
> N


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